CERISER: BAEKHYUN & CHANYEOL
by TNOATS
Summary: Baekhyun won't eat and Chanyeol is head over heels for a student, of all people. Can high school get any more hectic? FEATURING BYUN BAEKHYUN AND PARK CHANYEOL. CERISER: French for "CHERRY TREE." TNOATS 2017 COVER: @1969kg
1. ONE

"Where do you think you're going, squirt?"

Baekhyun could only sigh in annoyance, attempting to push past the much larger and much taller junior that was currently and seemingly holding him hostage in the gym's locker room.

Gym was not Baekhyun's strong point on any level. Dodge ball, Baekhyun had calculated quite early on in his high school career, was his gym teacher's favorite activity to host. It was the tiny senior's, on the other hand's, least favorite. There were countless times during his years at this shit show of a school that he had gotten pummeled with balls because he was the smallest and easiest target, seeing as he didn't even bother trying to dodge the rubber bullets, essentially the whole point of the game.

"Move over, asshole," Baekhyun hissed, his head tilted back to meet the younger's intimidating stare. He had dusty pink hair, straightened to perfection over his forehead and an upturned nose, along with a pair of eyes that seemed to look right through you. Baekhyun had dealt with assholes before, but this is his first time being teased by some dickhead that was actually younger than him, him being a senior and all.

The shorter attempted to push past the nasty boy when he was abruptly shoved back by said nasty boy, and that was when Baekhyun had had it. He power-kicked the male in the shin and made sure to nail his knee extra hard into his crotch, effectively causing him to double over in pain, allowing a very proud Baekhyun access to the exit.

But that wasn't the last of that wretched junior. No, one mustn't forget that he was still in Baekhyun's gym class. And it was dodge ball day.

"Freshmen and seniors on the west side, juniors and sophomores on the east!" the teacher ordered like a drill sergeant commanding his army.

Baekhyun went to his assigned side of the gym, pressing his petite frame against the padded western wall. He could spot the troublemaker junior from across the room, he could make out his scowling expression and tight fists. Suddenly, Baekhyun didn't feel so proud of himself anymore.

The game began and most of the seniors were at the front line, throwing multicolored rubber balls like their dignity depended on it while most of the freshmen huddled in corner, with the exception of one senior using the younger students as human shields against the relentless eastern side.

Eventually, all of the freshies were knocked out of the game and most of the not so enthusiastic sophomores had gotten themselves out, and there left the seniors versus the juniors. Baekhyun was certainly in the red.

Then, suddenly, he was no longer in a shitty gym, Baekhyun was in a battlefield. His hands were covered in the blood of his comrades, his olive coat and sweatshirt that had become oversized long ago and scuffed jeans were transformed into camouflaged armor and across the miles of desert sat his enemy. In that moment, in that single moment of defenselessness, he had made a careless mistake and he was in the open. The enemy had weapons clutched in their muddy fingers, Baekhyun had no such thing. The next thing he knew, a bullet was shot from 10 yards east and he was hit.

The bully of a junior hurled a half-deflated ball right towards the cowering senior and it nailed him in the side of the head, properly knocking him out cold on the waxy floor. Of course, he wasn't out of the game since the ball had hit his head, but he was definitely out of consciousness.

The next thing Baekhyun saw was thankfully not his enemy spitting in his face with blood running a river on his body but an off-white ceiling and the next thing he felt was not pain so unimaginable, no normal person could relate, but a firm, plasticky bed underneath him and a warm, moistened towel put over his slightly sore forehead. He was dazed and felt as if he had just gotten off of a rollercoaster; his headache seemed as if it would be the death of him. The closed off by a curtain room smelled like musty corners and bleach.

Regardless of how he felt, the teen sat up and tiptoed to the exposed sliver between two curtains, peeking out into the other room. Turned out, he was settled in the nurses office and according to the clock hung on the wall, he had settled for quite a while.

"You can come out, I don't bite," a muffled voice called out from the room Baekhyun was currently peeking into. He shrugged and made his way out from behind the panels of polyester, meeting the eyes of a boy that was in his grade but he had never bothered talking to, said boy was seated at a table positioned in the middle of the room, a stack of tissues beside him, one of them pressed to his nose.

"Have a seat, dude." He threw his used tissue into the garbage can, immediately grabbing another after to shove against his face. The trash can was filled with the stained papers.

Baekhyun shrugged and did as the bleeding boy said, plopping down onto one of the metal foldable chairs owned by the school, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable. "Where's the nurse?" he asked once a short period of uncomfortable silence had passed.

"Mr. Park'll be back soon, he had to go to the office for something," the bleeding one answered with a wave of his hand that wasn't pinching his leaking nose. "What happened to you anyway?"

"I lost at dodge ball," Baekhyun mumbled simply, the last images he had of the gym and the junior attempting to give him brain damage rewinding in his mind. "How'd I end up here exactly?" the one that was not profusely bleeding from his nostrils inquired, continuing their little game of 20 questions.

"I dunno really, Mr. Park just marched into here holding some sleeping guy like a baby while I was bleeding out in the trash can," he chuckled, leaning over the mentioned trash can once again to throw away his tarnished piece of cotton, noticing that his nose was no longer dripping crimson and that he was free from his bloody prison.

Baekhyun felt a shudder go through him, a visible cringe at the image of some middle aged man with only half the head of hair he used to have laying his hands on him when he was so vulnerable. Attempting to get his thoughts off that note, the brain damage patient let a question of a separate topic escape his tongue. "What's your name again?"

"Kim Minseok."

"I've heard of you before, you're the guy who crashed homecoming that one year!" Baekhyun exclaimed before he could stop himself, finally putting a face to the infamous name that had wandered the school years ago.

"The one and only."


	2. TWO

Small talk was passed back and forth like a rubber ball between the teenagers until the deemed faceless (by Baekhyun, anyway) nurse returned from whatever tasks he needed to attend to (it was to get a diet coke from the vending machine with a cracked front in the faculty room).

His name was Park Chanyeol, 23 years old with bright, almond shaped eyes, a passion for late night cable shows, and fresh out of training to be a doctor. He was to replace the previous nurse who had greying ginger hair and corkscrew words that made any student avoid her office at all costs. This new caretaker, however, was kindhearted with better knowledge and judgment than the dreaded and ready-to-retire Ms. Kang. To say the least, a prime and handsome man was not what Baekhyun had been expecting to enter the nearly too short doorway after the patient had been pending with Minseok for what he estimated was 9 minutes.

"Sorry about that," he had muttered as soon as he had made his presence known, plopping down at his desk to grab a pen to write a pass for a no longer bleeding student. Mr. Park looked up to not only see the head of gingery hair he had expected, but the messy bush of feathery ebony strands he had not long ago laid down on one of the beds. "You're awake, huh? Need any ibuprofen?"

"N-No," Baekhyun lied, merely because of his sheer awkwardness shining through, "I'm fine." He couldn't keep his stare off of the nurse as Minseok planted his assignment book on his desk, patiently waiting for his well earned pass back to his scheduled classroom. Said student would be found crouching in the corner of the bathroom listening to music not 10 minutes after he was dismissed from the nurses office by a knowing teacher.

Baekhyun received his pass directly after Mr. Park had concluded that he was fit enough to be dismissed back to class after multiple mediocre questions that nurses tend to ask. The man didn't leave his wandering head though, he seemed too good (looking) to be working in some dingy high school with his black business casual attire, in a place where students disobeyed authorities just because they could and grouchy lunch ladies handed out lunches that could probably kill a man if eaten too quickly.

That was the first time Baekhyun had met Mr. Park, the second didn't go as smoothly.

It was gym class, once again, but this time it was the day that students would get weighed, their height determined, and their measurements taken so their new, may one mention, late, uniforms could be tailored properly. For the past two weeks, students were told to wear what they wanted with a grain of salt until further notice about when new uniforms would be ordered, received, and worn. Also to be known as Baekhyun's worst nightmare.

He contemplated just leaving school early, faking a cough or sobbing over chronic diarrhea or some other illness, maybe he could even sneak over to Mr. Park's desk and write himself a dismissal slip, but he knew his dad wouldn't have any of it if he found out, and neither would the school if he set himself up with the latter option. He let out a sigh as the bell rang obnoxiously over the loud speakers and with a cherry cough drop cradled in his cheek and an arm belonging to a certain younger soccer player, he made his way to his dreaded fate.

"I really don't want to fucking do this right now," Baekhyun whined, tapping his foot on the tiled ground outside of the nurses office, Sehun with his butt on the unsanitary ground beside him as he refused to stand for the period of time it would take to measure and weigh approximately 15 boys.

The bleach blond didn't even look up at him when he replied, his eyes focused on his mobile's flashing screen. "It'll be fine, you'll be back out within 5 minutes and you can go back to your homework and getting hit by dodge balls."

His snarky response earned him a swat on the back of the head and the glorious view of Baekhyun's slouched back. Eventually, after a few more boys had their measurements recorded and a lot of butt-scooting on Sehun's part, it was Baekhyun's turn to enter the office from hell. ("You sure you don't wanna go first?" "Move it, Byun.")

"Next!"

The door was closed by Mr. Park behind the more than distressed boy, a clipboard in hand. "Byun Baekhyun, yeah? You were in here the other day with Mr. Monthly," the nurse quipped, jotting down the students name in the correct margin while said student stripped to his undergarments hesitantly.

"Mr. Monthly?"

"Minseok." Mr. Park looked up from his papers and pen.

"Oh."

The redhead, his widened eyes at the boy with his head low, motioned to the measuring tool. Baekhyun dragged his mostly nude body to the platform and planted his feet on the metal step, hands above him working the plastic bar above his head. Though, they looked too bony and fragile to be hands; claws maybe. "Sixty-five inches." Then to the scale, oh, the dreaded scale. "Ninety six pounds."

In that very moment, Baekhyun stood still. His shivering body turned to stone and his heart dropped to his feet. What had he done wrong? Last time he weighed himself he was 95.1 pounds. Was it the peach from yesterday? Or maybe he was just retaining water from lunch. Or maybe it was because he had been skipping out on his workout routine, probably that. He was so beaten after school though, at least in the summer he could dedicate his day's energy to his workout and rest during whatever remaining time he had left. He knew he should've gotten rid of the peach right after lunch had ended, but his throat still hurt from the last time.

The cough drop was crushed between soft teeth.

Gentle hands found themselves around Baekhyun's chest, measuring tape in their grasp. "You should eat a little more, you know." The length was recorded and the same tape snaked itself atop his shoulders. "You're kinda underweight, you know that?"

The student was silent. He knew. He knew perfectly well. He was too focused on the screaming number in his head, a number that was too large for Baekhyun to accept on his body. He was told he was underweight in that moment, but he felt the complete opposite. He felt as if he were tenfold, as if he weighed as much as the Earth itself and he was as big as a cow raised for slaughter. He felt disgusting and fat and flabby and like he needed to be alone with some laxatives.

"Baekhyun."

His trance made up of misery, a number, and artificial cherry snapped and he met the stare of Mr. Park with a palm on his flaccid, boney shoulder. His skin hadn't felt that warm in so long..

"You can get dressed now."


	3. THREE

The familiar sound of the outdated telephone that adorned each classroom's ringing interrupted the teacher's lengthy and overheard lecture about the dangers of underage sex, interrupting a certain student's usual 2:00 nap. Mr. Yang cleared his throat before answering, and listening to what was assumed to be some notification from the office about something that the students would care less about, and it was, save one with his chin being smudged by a short fist that was promptly called on with orders from the guidance office.

It was a few days after the great scale incident featuring Mr. Park, enough time for Baekhyun to push it to the back of his head where he buried and stomped on it after a well deserved (in Baekhyun's mind at least) amount of exercise at the school's open weight room after the day had come to a close for most. But, unfortunately, the incident was not exactly over. As the boy shoved it to the depths of his brain, it was surfaced to the front of the one and only nurse.

Mr. Park didn't normally pay much attention to students unless he was pressing medication into their palms, spreading a bandaid onto their scraped knee, or kicking them out of his office during their study halls. But he was so thin, unnaturally so; his spine looked like a mountain range down his back and his shoulder blades could cut through steel. That was all the man could really see as said student's shoulders hung to his toes. After a few prolonged nights pondering and fighting against his own thoughts, he decided to report his worries and information to the guidance office where he was hoping Mr. Do would take care of it and the events could be forgotten with time, never to hear of it again.

"Is there anything the school can do about it?" he had spilled to Do Kyungsoo, a man he had albeit only briefly chatted with during a lunch break once. Regardless, he was the only person Park could think to turn to.

The shorter man let out a small sigh before responding with the answer Chanyeol was hoping for. "This is a bit different from the usual cases of self harm or sinking grades, but I guess I could speak to his parents and himself. I'll keep you updated with what happens."

Chanyeol didn't need to be updated by Mr. Do, he was informed by someone else well enough.

Baekhyun had stomped his way to his set destination after a visit with the guidance counselor that had been cut short. The student refused to hear what his father had to say about the matter and the typical comments of worry coming from the man's mouth. It wasn't Mr. Do's fault, the boy knew that, so he made his way to the man who may have just ruined Baekhyun's day and possibly the rest of his high school career.

The senior found Mr. Park sat at his desk, filling in papers and important teacher work that he didn't bother finding out the subject of. The anger flooded his entire body to the brim, bubbling at the very top like a scalding poured glass. He felt that his life was destroyed, his biggest little secret let out. You should have been more careful, he thought, you fucking dipshit, you piece of absolute garbage, you worthless-

"Hello, what can I do for you?" a deep voice called without looking up from the task at hand, expecting the whine of some soccer player who had carelessly fallen or a flushed girl needing pain killers. What the man definitely didn't plan was a palm smacking his beloved mahogany desk and to glance up at turned down lips and brows that belonged to one he tried forgetting about.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Park?" he seethed, his entire body practically shaking in place. Baekhyun couldn't think, he couldn't breathe; he felt so betrayed, so exposed. How dare he, how dare he.

"Baekhyun-"

"Don't even say my name, it sounds disgusting coming from someone like you. What right do you think you have to get into my business? Don't even try and lie and say it wasn't you, no one else's seen me, no one else would give a shit," the younger of the two exclaimed, his voice trembling with tension.

Chanyeol couldn't believe what was happening, he would've never guessed something like this would take place after he told Kyungsoo, he thought the boy's parents would be informed and it would all turn out to be fine and an innocent mistake or something of the such. But here he was, his back rigid against his leather computer chair and a student cursing at him with all the might he had in his breaking down form. He had no clue what to do.

"I. Am. Fine. Why the fuck would you think otherwise? Maybe I'm naturally skinny? Maybe you should mind your own, Mr. Park, and let me be."

"How fucking dare you stick your shameful nose where it's not wanted, blabbing your mouth to some counselor that can't help a damn fly. God, the entire school faculty is gonna see me as the little anorexic boy, you know that? Then, the entire student body. I won't be Byun Baekhyun anymore, Mr. Park, I'll be the bulimic bitch, the one that can't hold in a fucking apple, the one who can't keep up in gym because he's too weak, the one that can't go a day without hating himself-" at this point, the boy had collapsed to his knees, tears running down his discolored cheeks like salty rivers, stinging his eyes and streamed down almost lovingly over his strained fingers, a nurse finally standing to his feet, "so much so that he doesn't eat dinner, then breakfast, then-"

It was heartbreaking, to say the least, the broken boy. The broken boy that choked on his own sobs that heaved his body, lifted his lungs and lined the whites of his eyes with red streaks. He couldn't see someone like this, it didn't matter if one was a student or an elderly woman, he couldn't let them just suffer like this. He dismissed the feeling of unease in the corner of his mind.

Baekhyun's body was surrounded by warm, dress shirt clad arms and he stopped. He stopped, he stopped talking and yelling at the nurse that has only attempted to help, his anger falling with his tears and fading to panic, to sheer silence. The two stayed this way, crouched on the ugly tiled floor with the sound of the heat kicking in and Baekhyun's head heavy with thoughts, leaning on Mr. Park's shoulder until the sobs dissipated, leaving behind a dozing and disoriented student with an empty stomach and a teacher with a heavy heart and full arms.


	4. FOUR

Mr. Park left the shell of a boy with a ripped piece of lined paper adorned with the numbers that he could 'call whenever' if he needed his 'assistance.' Baekhyun was determined to never have to dial those digits, he was even tempted to throw the scrap away; it made it a foot away from Ms. King's garbage bin before he retracted his arm and sat back at his desk. He had to admire the empathy and worry the nurse had for him; Baekhyun hadn't had someone feel bad for him in a long while and it felt good to be taken pity on for once rather than taken advantage of.

But he still wasn't happy. At the same time, Mr. Park's pity was the root of his anger. Pity is what drove him out of Mr. Do's ugly maroon chair that every office seemed to have in this world and in front of a certain someone's desk. He didn't want anyone worrying about him because if they worried, they would try to stop him, 'help' him is how they put it. Someone stopping him was one of Baekhyun's biggest fears. He still wasn't skinny, he still didn't have his dream body. Why would anyone want to try and sabotage his happiness? Why would anyone wish to build a wall between the boy and his desire to be lithe and beautiful?

So, Baekhyun simply shoved the wad of paper into the pocket of his too-tight jeans and decided to forget about it for a while.

This doesn't mean Baekhyun has forgiven Mr. Park. He was still angry for snitching on his little project, for bringing himself into the student's personal life and for, Baekhyun admits, finding him out. He could still see the doctor's startled and worried expression and he could still feel the hold around his frail body that had never felt being held before.

So, fact is, Baekhyun's upset. Baekhyun also has an idea, and a new friend. He puts all of these elements together and finds himself dialing, not the snoopy nurses number, but Minseok's. He knew what the fellow student got up to, and he wanted a taste of it. For once, Baekhyun didn't worry about gaining weight from the heavy calories alcohol could contain, he only worried about the percentage that would be listed on the bottle.

"Really? 'Cause Yifan's hosting a party tonight, could take you as a plus-one," Minseok lightly chuckled through the phone, obviously half occupied with doing something else, what, Baekhyun couldn't tell and couldn't bother asking.

"Really? He wouldn't mind?" Baekhyun was divided. He still wasn't really sure if he should partake in being a party-goer, but the tightness in his chest and the tears that had camped in the corners of his eyes pushed him towards the sea of irresponsible minors and cans of courage.

"Mm, probably not, but, yanno, he could always find a way to hate you," the senior muttered with a scoff of lightheartedness to reassure he was only joking.

"I really hope not.. Also, would you be able to give me a ride there? I don't really, well, drive."

"Sure, man. Where do ya' live?"

Baekhyun could taste the dead skin of his bottom lip that had been clamped between his acid washed teeth. The nervousness was eating him up from the inside out and he was only here to try some drinks and to try and forget the day's earlier occurrences. The young boy still cringed when thinking of his outbreak in front of the new nurse. Ignorant, misunderstanding nurse, Baekhyun cursed.

"Minseok! Come on in man, everyone's the basement; who's this?" a tall boy that didn't look young enough to still be in high school greeted the pair of newly friends at the door, his bold eyebrows and uniquely colored hair catching the attention of anyone who spared a glance to him.

Minseok drooped an arm around Baekhyun's flaccid shoulders for an added sense of casualness, "this here's Baekhyun, he's in my grade at good ol' Cerise," the older, but not oldest, boy answered for Baekhyun, feeling the tenseness radiating off of the poor thing. It brought memories of the first sketchy get together Minseok ever attended back to him; the senior patted the ball of the shorter boy's shoulder.

Kris introduced himself and led the trio to the basement where the majority of people were mingling. It wasn't much of a party, really, more of eleven or so people hanging out with various illegal substances and shouted cuss words. Baekhyun decided he was okay with that, he may not be quite ready for strobe lights and being dry humped by some desperate freshman.

Minseok pointed out each of the lounging millennials, giving their name, school, and social status summary a few minutes after they made themselves comfortable on an empty slate grey sofa, adorned with a questionable rip on the armrest. Joints were passed around, the youngest boy present was handed the bundle and was quickly taught how to smoke; more than many coughs and sputtered complaints could be heard from miles away before the teen got the hang of it and could already feel his body slouch and his mind fog.

"I'm getting a beer, anyone want some?" one of the boys announced as they got to their feet, hand already resting on the railing of the stairwell. Baekhyun recalled his name as Tao or something of the sort.

"I'll try some, I suppose," an already loose Baekhyun mumbled, the words hardly reaching the ears of the beer runner.

Minseok offered a grin of approval, "you're out to get fucked, dude. This your first time drinking too?" he questioned humorously, sipping from a red plastic cup with his eyebrow nearly meeting his hairline.

"Yeah, does it taste bad?"

"Good god, I'm tainting you. And yeah, it does."

"What's it taste like?"

"Find out."

Tao tossed a can in his general direction with a knowing, but friendly, smile, the chilled drink landing in the boy's lap. Tao went back to his business he had with sitting too close to Kris to just be buddies. Some older boy took a large sip of his beverage at the sight.

The golden liquid reached Baekhyun's tongue within a few seconds after the familiar crack of aluminum and straight after found itself on his lap and partially on the hardwood flooring. "Tastes like fucking piss, dude."


	5. FIVE

Before anyone bothered checking and after Minseok was too blowed to bother even putting out the quarter of a blunt that rested between his thumb and forefinger, smoke rising from the tip like a gateway chimney. Everyone was passed out, asleep, or on their way there. Their minds were fogged with THC and the amount of alcohol that only a college jockey could consume. By twelve at night, only a couple of the young adults remained with their eyes peeled open, staring at what was likely not even there. Baekhyun, on the other hand, slouched on the couch, his socks and jacket long gone and eyes lined with red streaks of a green paint brush, was only on the idea of food. His stomach felt too empty suddenly, an overwhelming hunger took over his brain and all he could fathom was the idea of a feast.

His head was too ditzy and intoxicated to remember that no, no, you can't eat, you'll get fat. The starving boy, the deprived boy, the high boy, the sad boy, stood from the couch without a word, and with stumbling steps and a few almost-slips, he made it up the few stairs within only fifteen minutes and found himself in the kitchen.

His hands became greedy, grabbing whatever he could from the fridge. Then the freezer. Then the cupboards. Then the pantry. Cheese sticks, ice cream, left over birthday cake, granola bars, chips, his mouth was the greedy one now. It was as if his body was taken over by a ghost that had been starved in it's previous life; he was unable to halt the consuming urge of consumption. It was terrifying.

An hour had passed of eating and Baekhyun couldn't move. He couldn't think. Most of all, he couldn't believe what he had done. How could he let this happen to himself? Did he have no self control? He felt as if his life were over. His belly looked at least eight months pregnant due to the sheer volume of sustenance he had shoved down his throat and he was absolutely disgusted. Somehow eating had sobered him up just a tad to realize his actions, and how he wished he had consumed more than just a few beers.

Scattered footsteps made their way up the basement stairs, Minseok's yellow hair peeking from the door frame before he continued his way over to the new found friend he encountered in the nurses office. He sat at the kitchen table across from the younger boy, his eyes focused with a glassy look to them.

"Case of the munchies, huh?" he retorted, followed by one of his signature lighthearted chuckles. He grabbed a spare granola bar and began nibbling on a rasin he picked off.

Baekhyun didn't answer. He couldn't form a coherent word, not now. He could hardly face his friend; all that was racing through the boy's head was how much weight he's bound to gain, how all of his previous progress was now wasted and dead, how bloated his normally inverted stomach looked at the moment, how awfully disgusting he was, so gross, you're so fucking fat you pig, with no control over your selfish mouth. Don't you want to be skinny, Baekhyun? Don't you know that pretty boys don't eat? Don't you understand the consequences of eating like an obese cow? You grotesque piece of garbage, you might as well-

Vomit coated his lap, the edge of the table and the poor tiled flooring that had once been decently vacuumed by an unwilling teenager. Baekhyun had puked all over himself and he wasn't stopping any time soon. He rushed for the garbage, Minseok swiftly standing up with a frightened noise of some degree leaving his throat as he thought of what to do to help.

"Fuck, I knew this would happen; first timers always puke," he muttered as he wetted a cloth that he had discovered in a cupboard, attempting to wipe down Baekhyun's front as the poor boy hacked up the contents of his strained stomach, tears running down along with the flood of acid.

He felt like dying; his stomach felt as if he had been punched an infinite number of times and his throat was scorched with acidic waste. He felt so helpless, like such a mess; he was so damn tired of it all. He hated going on like this, but he still wasn't skinny enou-

Minseok sighed a long, frustrated sigh, "we should call someone, you got a sibling or something you can call to pick you up? Kris is gonna fucking lynch my ass.."

Baekhyun had no siblings. He could no doubt not call his father to come retrieve him; he would without hesitation know exactly what had been going on just by looking at his son, nevermind smelling him. Sehun can't even drive yet, plus Baekhyun would need a hefty wad of luck to wake his younger friend from his slumber. Suddenly, the small lump in his pocket had resurfaced in his memory and he darted his hand to retrieve it, dialing the scribbled digits with no hesitation after his nausea had died down the smallest bit for him to keep down the barely digested food and to wipe off his lips.

It ringed a number of times, Baekhyun didn't blame him as it was extremely late at night and he didn't tag the man as a night owl judging from his job choice. When his deep, sleep laced voice answered the call, the student nearly began sobbing again.

"Mr. Park.." Baekhyun croaked, his words followed by a pitiful sniffle. Minseok stood beside the crouched boy in confusion; why would he be calling the school nurse of all people? How would he be in the first place, not to mention?

"Baekhyun?" Rustling could be heard over the line and the ill boy could almost see the man sitting up in his bed, inquiry and worry practically leaking from the speaker. "What's wrong?"

"Mr. Park.." As predicted, Baekhyun began crying once more as a worried teacher waited on the edge for what all the fuss was about. "Please come get me, please help me-"

Cough, hurl, splat.


	6. SIX

The phone was snatched from the tiled floor as Baekhyun sobbed into the trash can, vomit running down his chin. His stomach felt as if it had been kicked in and all he craved was a long rest but his swollen belly would give him no mercy as he kept his head in the bin.

Minseok took matters into his own hands knowing that his friend wouldn't be able to give any details in his current situation. With a long sigh, he held the device up and could only hear Mr. Park's worried banter before shushing him.

"What's going on? Who's this?" he asked in response to Minseok's blunt order to zip it. He could almost picture the man rubbing his forehead as he always did when he was on edge, a crease cut between his eyebrows.

Minseok walked to the other side of the kitchen in an attempt to lessen the volume of the other students sick state, but to no avail, the younger boy's whimpers echoed off of the tiled walls. "Minseok; Baekhyun's sick or something. You wanna come pick him up, please?" The older boy contemplated if his nurse would snitch if he told him the reason why Baekhyun was puking his guts out, and decided he might as well. "He's wasted as hell."

Mumbles of exasperated and incoherent words could be heard over the line before the man responded, "Is he okay?"

"Not right now, but he'll be fine by morning," Baekhyun began dry heaving, his sobs seemingly never ending, "probably."

"What's the address?"

Three forceful knocks boomed from the corner of the kitchen, the front door shivered at the harsh touch. Minseok stood up straight from his previous position of leaning against the wooden dining table that was still littered with the remnants of his friend's earlier feast. As soon as the latch was released, the door was forced open to a frown and hair that looked as if it were combed with static.

"What did you do to him?" were the first words that Minseok was hit with, anger clearly lacing each of the syllables. The man pushed past the younger boy to whirl his head around the room, scanning the janky kitchen until he saw what he was desperately searching for, swiftly making his way over to crouch beside the boy's unconscious body.

Minseok sighed, his fingers hanging off of the belt loops of his tattered jeans as he watched the man inspect Baekhyun like an abandoned mother. "Look, I didn't do this. I know what it looks like, Mr. Park, but he made his own decisions."

"Are you kidding? He reeks of beer." The man brushed the sticky strands of hair off of his sleeping patient's forehead. A hue of yellow was painted on the wrecked boy's face, clearly still ill.

"That he decided to drink. No one forced it down his throat. I'm sure he had his reasons, we all do."

"Bullshit, Minseok. I'm taking him home," the nurse spat. He knew what the senior got up to and he couldn't believe he'd bring such an untouchable and innocent teen into it. Even if Baekhyun had wanted to do all of this, Minseok still provided it and let him ruin himself.

Minseok felt irritation pricking his head and pulled out the worn cardboard pack from his back pocket, fingering a cheap cigarette between his pointer and thumb, "whatever, Park, but take care of him," he muttered, smoke drifting from the corner of his mouth like a Victorian chimney.

The nurse hauled the boy's body over his forearms, his legs hanging like a dolls, and only then did he notice just how light Baekhyun was. He had gotten worse, it was obvious. Chanyeol gently placed him down on the back seat of his car, deciding last minute to tuck his jacket over the boy's bare arms as he felt the night chill riddle the streets. The only sound that could be heard of the distance whisper of traffic and crickets was a soft sigh escaping the older man's lips.

Warmth was the first thing Baekhyun noticed, then strong arms holding his waist and soft skin against his nose. The sudden fear of falling off of whatever he was against left him to grip the man's shoulders, his mind swimming with confusion at his current situation. He recognized the auburn strands and the musky manly smell that were noticed once before. His head was throbbing and his throat felt as if it were on fire.

"Mr. Park?" Baekhyun mumbled quite weakly, a characteristic he never wanted to be tied with his name. He had always thought of himself as strong, not physically, but mentally. Strong for holding it out this long, strong for going through with his own torture, to risk his life for ethereal beauty. But in this moment, he felt so despicably weak and tattered.

Chanyeol stopped his short walk to the front door of his home, the sudden, albeit very quiet and small, voice startling him for a moment as he didn't expect to hear it until the late morning the next day. "Baekhyun? You're awake?" the teacher pulled away from his previous position of holding the boy against himself, that the boy let off as an instinctive or protective act. The nurses hand moved from his nape to between his narrow shoulder blades to look down at the blushing face of his patient.

The student nestled back into the broad shoulders that belonged to his school's nuse, embarrassment flooding his mind at the way he was being held that could be mistaken for something loving; he was held like a helpless baby. "Where are we?"

"My home, I hope that's alright with you." Chanyeol hesitantly placed his hand where it had been before, gently carding his digits through the strands of hair that tickled the teens neck as he began walking to the welcome mat once more.

Baekhyun sniffled, exhaustion quickly overtaking him as it had just a few minutes ago, "that's fine, Mr. Park, thank you."


End file.
